e/s. 

T44U 


A Blind  Attachment 


Price,  25  Cents 


WALTER  H • BAKER  CO 
BOSTON 


BAKER’S  EDITION 
Ifr  OF  PLAYS  ^1 


V BLIND  ATTACHMENT 

f§fr'-'  ' ' ‘"v; 

A COMEDY  IN  ONE  ACT 


ESTHER  B.  TIFFANY 


UTHOR  OF  “A  RICE  PUDDING,”  “ ANITA’S  TRIAL,”  “ AN  AUTOGRAPH 
LETTER,”  “A  MODEL  LOVER,”  “THE  WAY  TO  HIS  POCKET,” 

“A  BORROWED  UMBRELLA,”  “THAT  PATRICK,” 

“YOUNG  MR.  PRITCHARD,”  ETC. 


BOSTON 


A BLIND  ATTACHMEN 


CHARACTERS. 

Mrs.  Philips. 

Mary  Philips,  daughter  to  Mrs . Philips . 
Miss  Maria  Fosdick,  aunt  to  Mrs.  Philips . 
Elinor  Christy,  school  friend  to  Mary . 
Mrs.  Fogerty,  boarding-house  keeper* 


Costumes  modern. 


Copyright,  1895,  by  Walter  H.  Baker  & Co« 


Q 1 


A BUND  ATTACHMENT. 


J 

icene. — Private  parlor  in  ordinary  boarding-house . Door 
R.  C.,  leading  to  bedroom.  Door  L.  c.,  leading  to  passage. 
j Window , rear  C.,  with  blind  drawn.  Table  at  one  side  with 
\ vase  of  flowers  and  looking-glass  over  it.  Mrs.  Philips  in 
well-worn  shawl  and  bonnet  seated  at  table  studying  a 
j directory. 

uMrs.  Ph.  ( running  her  finger  down  the  page).  Forsyth 

oss  — F orrest  — F oster — F otherbee  — F otheringay.  F otherin- 
ly  ? No;  Fotheringhill  was  what  I made  it  "out  in  Aunt 
arias  note.  Fotheringhill.  I can’t  find  any  Fotheringhill. 
h dear,  oh  dear  ; these  directories  always  confuse  me  so  ! 
nd  Mary  is  no  cleverer  than  I am  in  finding  her  way  about  in 
em.  I think  Fll  ask  Mrs.  Fogerty  or  one  of  the  help — I mean 
le  of  the  servants.  Aunt  Maria  doesn’t  like  to  hear  me  call 
hem  help.  ^ ( Rises  irresolutely.)  I wonder  if  the  chambermaid 
-perhaps  Fll  ring.  ( Goes  to  bell.)  I suppose  I ought  to  ring. 
iunt  Maria  always  rings  if  she  merely  wants  the  shade  drawn. 
Rings  and  starts  back  nervously.)  What  a racket  ! I wish  I 

adn’t.  I might  say  it  was  an  accident.  I might  say (A 

nock.)  Oh,  come  in. 

Enter  Mrs.  Fogerty. 

Mrs.  Fog.  '{severely).  Oh,  that  was  your  bell,  was  it  ? 

Mrs.  Ph.  ( deprecatingly ).  Oh,  I— it  was  a— that  is 

Mrs.  Fog.  Nora  was  coming  up,  but  I told  her  not  to  stop 
er  sweeping.  I told  her  I’d  see  to  it. 

Mrs.  Ph.  {timidly).  Very  kind,  I’m  sure. 

Mrs.  Fog.  Well,  as  I said  to  Nora,  it  must  be  something 
oecial.  ’Tisn’t  hardly  to  be  expected,  as  I said  to  Nora,  that 
ny  one  five  flights  up  would  be  likely  to  be  making  so  extra  free 
rith  the  bell  at  all  hours  of  the  day.  What  can  I do  for  you  ? 

3 


4 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  I — why,  I probably  just  touched  the  bell  bj 
accident — that  is- 

Enter  Mary,  from  bedroom , in  light  afternoon  dress . 
Mary  ( excitedly ).  Oh,  mother,  mother ! it’s  the  loveliest  o 
them  all,  isn’t  it  ? 

Mrs.  Fog.  Got  a new  dress  ? 

Mary.  Oh,  Mrs.  Fogerty  ! Yes  ; isn’t  it  sweet  ? And  fou 
more  besides,  all  laid  out  on  the  bed  in  a row. 

Mrs  Ph.  ( arranging  Mary’s  dress).  Stand  still  a momen 
Mary/  Wait,  it  needs  a pin.  [Exit  into  bedroom 

Mrs.  Fog.  When ’s  it  to  come  off? 

Mary.  What? 

Mrs  Fog.  Going  to  be  married,  am  t you  ? 

Mary.  Married  ! What  an  idea  ! Why,  I just  left  schoc 
last  week. 

Mrs  Fog.  ( using  her  duster  and  changing  her  tone).  An 
four  more  p’retty  dresses,  all  laid  out. on  the  bed,  you  say  ? Ho- 
shabby  this  furniture  is  growing,  to  be  sure.  I don  t know  wh, 
ever  made  Nora  show  your  ma  into  these  rooms  when  you  cam 
Mary.  Oh,  but  we  like 

Mrs.  Fog.  {volubly).  I’m  going  to  move  you  down  two  tlign 
to-morrow,  where  it  will  be  handier,  and  Nora  can  answer  yoi 

bell  any  moment.  t 

Mary  ( apprehensively ).  Oh  no,  no  ! We  don  t want 
move>  [ Glances  towards  window 

Mrs.  Fog.  Did  your  ma  choose  that  dress  ? She  has  tast( 
And  four  more,  you  say,  laid  out  on  the  bed  ! Haven  t you 

kind  ma ! . 

Mary.  Oh,  it’s  not  mother  ; it's  Aunt  Maria. 

Mrs.  Fog.  Aunt  Maria  ? f 

Mary.  Yes,  my  great-aunt.  I m named  for  her,  only  th 

call  me  Mary.  , , 

Mrs.  Fog.  {fingering  Mary’s  dress).  She  must  be  a love 

lady.  * You  don’t  get  goods  like  that  for  nothing. 

Mary.  Why,  she  sent  on  three  hundred  dollars  to  have  i 
fitted  out  in  clothes,  and  she  is  going  to  take  me  with  hei 
Europe  next  month  to  stay  a year  ! 

Mrs.  Fog.  You  don’t  say  ! _ . d 

Mary.  She  lives  there.  She  has  a villa  on  the  Cornice.  S 
hates  America.  She  is  just  going  to  be  here  a week.  Oh 
hope  she  will  like  me  ! I haven’t  seen  her  for  years. 

Enter  Mrs.  Philips  with  pins.  She  arranges  Mary’s  drc 

Mrs.  Fog.  ( to  Mrs.  Philips).  As  I was  saying  to  yt 
daughter,  ma’am,  I haven’t  really  been  able  to  sleep  nights  thi 
ing  of  you  stewed  up  in  these  miserable  little  rooms,  and  ji 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


5 


as  soon  as  you  feel  like  letting  Nora  and  me  move  your  things 
downstairs 

Mrs.  Ph.  Move  ? Oh  no,  these  rooms  suit  us  perfectly. 

I Mary.  Perfectly.  [ She  goes  to  vase  and  fingers  flowers 

absently. 

Mrs.  Fog.  And  what  was  it  now  you  were  ringing  for, 
ma’am  ? Want  a little  fire  this  chilly  day  ? Or  a cup  of  tea  ? 
Don’t  ever  hesitate  in  my  house  about  asking  for  what  you 
! want. 

Mrs.  Ph.  I was  trying  to  find  Fotheringhill  Street  in  the 
j directory. 

Mrs.  Fog.  Fotheringhill  ? Fotheringhill  ? Perhaps  you 

Smean  Fotheringay.  Why,  that’s  the  swellest  street  in  town. 
Mrs.  Ph.  My  aunt  wrote  me  she  was  to  be  at  ( consulting 
tote)  Fothering— something  Street. 

' Mrs.  Fog.  Fotheringay  it  must  be.  Nora  can  show  you 
where  it  is  in  a moment. 

, Mrs.  Ph.  (moving  towards  door).  Oh,  I don’t  want  to  trouble 
‘Nora. 

Mrs.  Fog.  No  trouble  at  all. 

Mrs.  Ph.  But  her  sweeping  ? 

Mrs.  Fog.  Cleanliness,  I know,  ma’am,  is  next  to  godliness, 
as  the  Scripture  teaches,  but  in  my  opinion  there  are  virtues 
above  cleanliness,  and  one  is  to  help  our  fellow-creatures  in 
trouble;  and  I’ll  tell  Nora  to  put  on  her  cap  and  apron  and 
walk  behind  you  quite  quiet  and  respectful. 

Exeunt  Mrs.  Fogerty  and  Mrs.  Philips. 
Mary.  Leave  these  rooms  ! What  would  poor  Vivian  say 
to  that  ! 

Ee-enter  Mrs.  Philips. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Mary,  you  will  be  sure  and  take  your  dress 
| right  off. 

Mary.  Yes,  mother. 

; , Mrs.  Ph.  I would  not  have  you  soil  or  rumple  it  for  the 
I world  before  your  aunt  sees  you  in  it. 

Mary.  I’ll  be  careful. 

Mrs.  Ph.  How  kind  Mrs.  Fogerty  is.  At  first  she  seemed — ■ 
well,  I was  a little  afraid  of  her  at  first. 

Mary  fiutting  her  arms  around  her  mother).  Oh,  dear  little 
j mother,  you  are  afraid  of  so  many  things  ! 

Mrs.  Ph.  And  she  admires  you  immensely,  Mary  ; she  just 

I '£id Well,  no  matter  now,  I mustn’t  keep  Nora  waiting. 

pod-bye,  dear.  [Exit. 

I )e»Mary  (going  toward  bedroom  door).  Well,  I suppose  I must 
! -iyke  this  off.  (Pausing.)  But  I should  like  Vivian  to  see  me 
it!  it  first.  ( Goes  to  mirror .)  Is  it  becoming,  I wonder  ? 


6 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


{Taking  flower  from  vase.)  I wonder  whether  this  would 
give  it  the  finishing  touch  ? (. Arranges  rose  in  her  hair.) 

was  so  nice  of  Elinor  to  bring  me  her  roses  after  the  b; 
Oh,  I wonder  what  Vivian  will  think  ! I wonder  if  he’s  at 
window  yet  ! I wish  I had  asked  mother  to  pull  up  the  bln 
{Goes  to  window.)  I’ll  look  the  other  way  when  I pull  it 
and  pretend  I don’t  see  him.  {Pulls  up  blind  and  moz 
hastily  away,  with  a side  glance  over  her  shoulder .)  Y 
there  he  is  in  his  old  place,  half  hidden  behind  those  k 
draperies,  and  all  eyes  for  me.  {Sighs.)  Oh  dear,  now 
course  he’s  wondering  where  I am,  for  in  this  corner  of  t 
room  I am  out  of  his  range.  {Taking  up  a book.)  Shall  I 
down  and  read  ? No,  I will  wind  my  worsted.  That  new  skt 
just  matches  my  dress.  {Takes  skein  of  worsted  from. . tad 
moves  two  chairs  in  front  of  window , puts  the  worsted  oz 
the  back  of  one , and  is  about  to  seat  herself  in  the  other.)  k 
the  chairs  must  be  put  the  other  way  round,  so  that  he  can  s 
the  rose  in  my  hair.  {Changes  chairs , and , seating  herse 
begins.  to  wind  worsted,  talking  as  she  does  so,  and  gland 
occasionally  from  under  her  lids  at  the  window.)  I decla: 
he  s bending  forward  to  see  better  ! How  particularly  sad 
is  looking  to-day  ! I wonder  if  he  doesn’t  care  for  pink.  ( 
dear,  I wish  I had  not  let  my  hands  get  so  brown  this  summ< 
rowing  ! His  are  so  white.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  bett 
if  I had  just  settled  quietly  down  with  a book,  then  he  would: 
have  seen  how  brown  they  were.  {A  knock.)  Come  in. 

Enter  Elinor  with  shopping  bag. 

Elinor  {dropping  bag).  That  bag  and  five  flights  of  stair 
Well,  Polly.  * 

Mary  {jumping  up  and  kissing  Elinor).  Oh,  Elinor  ! 

Elinor  {sitting  down  out  of  range  of  the  window).  He 
smart  we  look  ! Aunt  Maria,  of  course. 

Mary.  Yes,  of  course. 

Elinor.  Why  wasn’t  I born  with  an  Aunt  Maria  ? Tu 
round.  And  a rose  in  her  hair  ! And  a rose  in  each  cheek  tc 
for  the  matter  of  that,  and  such  bright  eyes  ! {Looking  rou ; 
the  room  suspiciously.)  Were  you  really  all  alone  when  I car 
in  ? 

Mary  {nervously).  Oh,  quite  alone. 

Elinor.  And  all  this  thrown  away  on  a haircloth  sofa  and 
half-dozen  shabby  chairs.  What  a shame  your  mother  kee 
you  housed  so  1 

Mary.  Oh,  well,  you  know,  Aunt  Maria  is  so  strict. 

Elinor.  But  Aunt  Maria  is  not  here  yet. 

Mary,  No,  but  she  may  come  any  day. 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


7 


Elinor  And  like  the  proverbially  unpleasant  coming  events, 
asts  her  shadow  before.  [ Opens  her  bag. 

Mary.  Sh<;  has  such  a horror  of  young  girls  going  to  parties 
r being  out  in  the  street  alone — or 

Elinor  ( suddenly  drawing  out  and  placing  on  her  head  a 
lans  wig).  Wearing  men’s  wigs. 

Mary.  A wig  ! A man’s  wig  ! 

Elinor  ( taking  it  off,  poising  it  on  one  hand  and  smoothing 
Yes,  private  theatricals.  And  what’s  more,  I have  a coat 
nd  vest  in  here.  (Taps  bag.)  Oh,  Mary,  you  ought  to  see  me 
ct  the  part  of  a devoted  lover. 

Mary.  A man’s  part ! You  ! 

Elinor.  Oh,  just  among  us  girls.  Listen.  ( Strikes  attitude .) 

I-  Oh,  Miidred,  ere  ” — they  always  say  ere  for  before — “ Mildred, 
re  I* had  gazed  into  your  unfathomable  orbs,  I vainly  fancied  I 
lad  realized  what  bliss  was,  but  now  the  crescent  sheperdess  of 
tight,  the  azure  sea,  the  roseate  flush  of  dawn — flush  of  dawn  ” 

I ( Hunting  in  her  bag.)  What  is  it  about  the  “ flush  of 

Hawn  ” ? Where’s  my  book  ? 

Mary.  Oh,  go  on  ! It’s  perfectly  lovely. 

Elinor  ( pulling  out  moustache ).  “ Flush  of  dawn  ” — oh, 

• ere’s  my  moustache.  I’m  not  certain  about  my  moustache  ; 
when  I kiss  her  it  wiggles  so. 

Mary.  Oh,  never  mind  about  the  moustache.  “Roseate 
lush  of  dawn.”  Can’t  you  remember  what  comes  next  ? 

Elinor.  Why,  it’s  all  such  bosh,  you  know.  Fancy  any  sane 
nan  talking  like  that ! 

Mary  [dreamily).  Don’t  you  think  a man  might — might  look 
tuch  things  even  if  he  didn’t  dare  to  say  them  ? 

Elinor  ( rummaging  in  bag).  Look  what?  I didn’t  quite 
atch  what  you  were  saying,  Oh,  joy  ! my  rouge.  I thought 
’d  lost  it. 

i Mary.  And  what  does  Mildred  say  ? 

Elinor.  Mildred  ! Mildred  who  ? Oh,  in  the  play.  Oh, 
Mildred  is  a stick. 

* Mary.  Then  she  doesn’t  really  care — I mean 

Elinor  ( looking  at  Mary  critically ).  You  would  do  for  Mil- 
dred’s part. 

Mary.  Oh,  Elinor ! 

Elinor.  Not  that  you  could  act  it  any  better  than  a white 

mouse  ; but  there’s  something  about  you,  a sort  of 

[ Waves  her  hand. 

' Mary.  What  would  Aunt  Maria  say  ? 

i Elinor.  Aunt  Maria’s  have  their  inconveniences.  Perhaps  I 
am  just  as  well  off  without  one.  But  you  must  come  to  the  per« 
formance  at  any  rate. 

Mary.  Oh,  they  will  never  let  me. 


8 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


1 


Elinor  {kissing her).  You  poor  little  soul,  don’t  you  get  bore 
to  death  being  shut  up  so  ? 

Mary.  Oh,  no.  I have  my  fancy  work  and — and  books. 

Elinor.  Books  ! As  if  you  ever  glanced  into  a book  ! There 
some  mystery  here.  Come  now,  look  me  in  the  face  and  tell  me 
( Takes  Mary’s  hands.)  Why,  you  cannot  even  look  me  in  th 
face,  and  you  are  blushing  just  as  you  used  when  you  had  t 
flounder  through  “ j’aime,  tu  aimes,”  with  Prof.  Rebaut  at  boarc 
ing  school. 

Mary.  Oh,  Elinor ! 

Elinor.  Out  with  it  now. 

Mary.  Oh,  Elinor  ! 

Elinor.  You  said  that  before. 

Mary.  Well,  Elinor  dear,  it  isn’t  my  fault — but  just  opposite 
you  know— and  he  seems  so  sad  and  has  such  beautiful  eyes  am 
keeps  looking  at  me  so — and  so  you  see 

Elinor.  Yes,  I’m  beginning  to. 

Mary.  I know  it’s  wrong,  but  it  seems  such  a comfort  to  him 
and  he  doesn't  speak  but  only  looks — oh,  such  unutterabl 
things — and  sits  there  by  the  hour,  and  whenever  I happen  t< 
look  over 

Elinor.  Happen  to  look  over.  That’s  good. 

Mary.  There  ! Vivian  is  gazing  at  me. 

Elinor.  Vivian  ? 

Mary  ( confusedly ).  Oh,  I only  call  him  Vivian. 

Elinor  {juinping  up).  Show  him  to  me. 

Mary  ( detaining  her).  Oh,  don’t  ! 

Elinor.  Oh,  I will  just  walk  casually  past  the  window. 

Mary.  Oh,  do  be  careful,  for  he  is  very,  very  sensitive,  if  b< 
has  been  through  everything. 

Elinor.  Through  what  ? 

Mary.  Oh,  all  sorts  of  harrowing  experiences.  I’m  sure  h 
has.  He  isn’t  young  any  more,  and  his  hair  is  a little  white  o 
the  temples,  but  his  eyes.  [Sigh v 

Elinor.  If  you  were  ever  guilty  of  looking  into  a book 
should  say  you  had  just  been  through  a course  of  German  novel 
( Passing  before  window.)  He  is  nice  looking  ! 

Mary  ( reproachfully ).  Nice  looking  ! 

Elinor.  And  has  never  said  a word.  How  long  has  this  beei 
going  on  ? 

Mary.  Oh,  ages  ! A whole  week ! 

Elinor  {after  meditating).  I have  it.  Just  the  thing  ! Let' 
make  him  jealous. 

Mary.  Oh,  Elinor ! 

Elinor  ( with  decision ).  Yes,  we  will  make  him  jealous. 

Mary.  But  how  ? 

Elinor.  I’ll  make  love  to  you,  in  my  wig  and  coat 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


9 


Mary.  But  your  skirts  ? 

Elinor.  Goosey,  with  this  high  sash,  he  can’t  see  my  skirts. 
Mary  ( holding  back  her  skirts  to  look  at  her  feet ; discon - 
dately ).  Oh,  dear,  then  he’s  never  seen  my  best  slippers. 
Elinor  (< tapping  Mary’s  cheek).  Which  Miss  Slyboots  has 
ien  putting  on  every  morning  for  his  benefit.  ( Going  to  bed - 
oi?i.)  I’ll  be  back  in  a moment.  You  sit  down  just  as  you 
are  when  I came  in.  I’ll  go  round  through  the  passage  and 
ock  at  the  other  door.  [Exit  into  bedroom  with  bag. 

Mary  ( seating  herself  in  chair  before  window  and  beginning 
wind).  Elinor  always  does  such  wild  things  ! I hope  it 
)n’t  worry  Vivian.  (A  knock.)  Come  in. 


Mrs.  Fog*.  I just  thought  I’d  bring  up  these  cups  and  saucers 
d this  little  kettle.  Your  ma’ll  need  a cup  of  tea  when  she 
mes  back.  Don’t  look  over  strong,  does  she  ? 


XU.XO.  Fog.  And  we’ll  see  later  about  the  moving. 

Mary.  Oh,  we  don’t  want  to  move,  Mrs.  Fogerty.  I think 
Isse  rooms  are  perfectly  lovely. 

!Mrs.  Fog.  I shouldn’t  want  your  dear  auntie  to  find  you  in 
ch  looking  rooms.  A single  lady,  I think  you  said  ? 

Mary.  Oh,  dear,  yes. 

Mrs.  Fog.  And  so  free  with  her  money  ! Well,  I must  be 
ing.  Good-morning. 

Mary.  Good-morning.  (Exit  MrsI  Fogerty.)  What  was 
Elinor  was  repeating  about  eyes — no,  orbs — unfathomed — no, 

g fathomable  orbs — and  the  moon  and — and (A  knock .) 

1,  dear,  if  that  should  be  Aunt  Maria  ! Come  in.  (Enter 
JNOR  in  coat  and  wig.)  Oh,  Elinor!  What  a start  you 
ive  me.  % 

Elinor  ( with  stage  stride).  Call  me  not  Elinor.  ( Coming 
to  range  of  window  and  taking  Mary’s  hand.)  Good-morn- 
r,  Miss  Philips. 

Mary.  Why,  we  needn’t  talk  it  out,  Elinor.  Vivian  can’t 
ar. 

Elinor.  We  can  act  it  out  much  better  if  we  talk  it  out. 
Mary.  Well,  then,  take  a seat,  Mr.  Christy. 

Elinor  ( drawing  up  a chair).  Thank  you.  How  fresh  you 
>k  to-day.  The  German  was  not  too  much  for  you  ? 

IVEary.  Why,  Elinor,  you  know  I never — oh,  I forgot.  No 
; German  didn’t  tire  me. 

Elinor  ( drawing  nearer ).  May  I not  have  the  pleasure  of 
Iding  your  yarn  ? 

IVEary.  Oh,  you  always  get  my  worsted  into  such  a snarl— 
inor,  I — oh,  I mean — why 


Enter  Mrs.  Fogerty,  with  tray . 


\ You  are  very  kind. 


ro 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


Elinor.  That  answer  was  all  right.  It’s  much  better  to  be 
little  up  and  down  with  men,  Mary.  ( A devoted  tone.)  D 
trust  me. 

Mary.  Oh,  is  Vivian  looking  over  ? I don’t  dare  to  glanc 
round. 

Elinor.  His  eyes  are  as  big  as  saucers.  . 

Mary.  Oh,  dear  ! 

Elinor  {taking yarn  from  chair).  Do  let  me  hold  it. 

Mary.  Well,  then.  {Glancing  over  her  shoulder  at  t) 
window.)  He  is  taking  it  all  in. 

Elinor.  Now  you  must  be  continually  finding  tangles  ne; 
my  hands  and  touch  my  fingers,  while  you  are  unravelling  ther 
I’ll  start  as  if  it  sent  thrills  down  one,  you  know. 

Mary  {touching  Elinor’s  fingers).  Why,  you  jumped  as 
you  had  seen  a mouse.  That  wasn  t a bit  as  if  you  had  felt 

thrill.  , 

Elinor.  When  your  audience  is  across  the  street  you  have 
act  in  capital  letters,  so  to  speak.  Besides,  anyway,  in  actir 
the  broad  effects  are  what  you  must  try  for. 

Mary.  Oh,  dear,  I would  never  act ! 

Elinor,  No,  your  style  would  never  be  quite  pronounce 
enough.  * But  this  is  all  quite  too  commonplace.  {Leans  fo 
ward  in  devoted  manner .)  I am  so  glad  this  is  such  a Ian 

ary.  Oh,  dear,  I’m  not ; my  hands  get  so  tired  ! 

Elinor  {seizing  one  of  Mary’s  hands).  How  can  you  s 


good.  You  are  doi 


such  cruel  things  ? 

Mary  {drawing  away).  Oh,  don  t. 

Elinor.  Now  that  start  was  very 

bGMary.  It  wasn’t  acting.  You  really  startled  me.  You  lo 

so  like  a man.  And  to  think  of  poor  Vivian  over  there 

Elinor,  He  has  changed  his  position  so  that  he  can 

better.  . , 

Mary.  Oh,  has  he  ? Oh,  Elinor,  we  ought  not  to  tormc 


Elinor.  Is  it  really  one  of  my  own  rosebuds  nestling  so  bli 
fully  in  your  tresses  ? I must  have  it  back.  [Reaches  i 

Mary  {starting  up).  No,  no  ! . 

Elinor  {seizing  Mary  round  the  waist  and  kissing  tie 


Little  pride  ! . , 

Mary  {moving  hastily  away  out  of  range  of  the  windo ■ 


Oh,  Elinor.  7 ^ , 

Elinor.  That  last  blush  was  superb.  {Looks  towards  w 
dow.)  And  fetching,  too.  If  he  isn't  sitting  with  his  head 
his  hand,  the  picture  of  despair  ! 

Mary.  Oh,  Elinor,  what  have  you  done  ? 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


II 


Elinor.  You  will  get  a note  from  him  to-morrow. 

Mary.  I don’t  want  a note — I didn’t  want  you  to  torment 
m — I didn’t  want — oh,  dear,  oh,  dear,  I hear  mother  coming  ! 
Elinor.  My  wig,  my  wig  ! 

[. Rushes  to  bedroom  door , and  exit. 

Mary.  Poor  Vivian  ! 

Enter  Mrs.  Philips. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Not  at  Fotheringay  Street,  Mary,  but  I have  a note. 
Mary  {turning  away  from  Mrs.  Ph.,  embarrassed ).  A note  ? 
Mrs,  Ph.  Why,  you  have  your  dress  on  still. 

Mary.  Yes — I— I’ll  run  and  change  it. 

Mrs.  Ph.  No,  keep  it  on  now,  for  we  may  see  your  aunt  at 
jy  moment. 

Mary.  I’ll  take  your  bonnet  into  the  other  room. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Well,  you  don’t  seem  much  excited  at  the  idea  of 
eing  your  aunt  at  any  moment — any  moment,  I say. 

•Mary  (nervously).  Oh,  yes,  I am. 

Mrs.  Ph.  But  you  may  take  my  things  ; I’m  all  tired  out. 
lose  stairs  ! [ Seats  herself  in  chair  in  range  of  window. 

1 Mary.  Let  me  make  you  a cup  of  tea. 

'Mrs.  Ph.  Tea?  Oh,  that  was  kind  of  Mrs.  Fogerty.  But 
sre,  put  on  that  apron  with  the  bib.  You’ll  find  it  on  the  top 
my  basket. 

Mary.  That  hideous  thing  you  have  just  finished  for  Kath- 
ine  ? [ Gets  apron. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Start  the  kettle,  and  then  come  here  and  help  me 
ike  out  your  aunt’s  note.  She  does  write  the  blindest  hand. 
Mary  (ruefully  putting  on  apron).  Read  it  aloud,  mother. 
Mrs.  Ph.  {poring  over  letter).  “To  take  Mary  abroad  with 

2 on  the — on  the ” 

Mary  (lighting  kettle ; aside).  What  would  Vivian  say  to 
! e me  in  such  a rig.  I can’t  go  and  sit  there. 

Mrs.  Ph.  “ Take  Mary  abroad  with  me  on  the — on  the ” 

ime  here,  Mary. 

Mary  (moving  nearer  and  craning  her  neck  to  see).  I can 

l s quite  well  from  here,  “ On  the — on  the — ” 

Mrs.  Ph.  Well,  on  the 

Mary  (desperately).  On  the — Teutonic. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Teutonic  ? Mercy,  no,  it’s  a word  of  one  syllable, 
st  or  something.  Come  and  sit  down  where  you  can  really 

! Mary  (seats  \er self  near  her  mother  as  nearly  out  of  range 
i the  window  as  possible,  arid  looks  over  the  letter).  “ Take 
| ary  abroad  with  me  on  the  fifth,”  isn’t  it  ? 

[i Glances  at  window  and  sighs. 
Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  yes,  the  fifth.  How  did  you  ever  make  Teu- 


12 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


tonic  out  of  that  ? {Reads.)  “ And  travel  for  three  months, 
before ” [ Reads  in  low  tone . 

Mary  ( glancing  at  window ).  The  fifth.  Poor  Vivian  ! There 
he  is  still,  with  his  head  on  his  hand.  ( A knock ; Mary  goes 
to  the  door , opens  it}  and  brings  in  a card.)  It’s  Nora  with  a 
card.  Yes,  Aunt  Maria’s. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Hurry,  child  ! Off  with  your  apron. 

Mary  ( at  door).  Show  Miss  Fosdick  up,  Nora. 

Mrs.  Ph.  {smoothing  Mary’s  hair).  Now,  you  be  sure  and 
talk  very  little,  and  be  most  respectful  and  modest  like  the  Eng- 
lish girls,  not  like  that  wild  Elinor  Christy. 

Mary.  Yes,  mother.  [Exit  into  bedroom . 

Mrs.  Ph,  I suppose  my  hair  is  all  rumpled. 

[ Arranges  hair  at  glass  ; a knock . 

Enter  Miss  Fosdick. 


Miss  Fos.  Well,  Eliza  ? 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Aunt  Maria  , 

Miss  Fos.  You  got  my  note  ? 

Mrs.  Ph.  I was  just  reading  it  when  you  came.  Do  let  me 
take  your  wrap. 

Miss  Fos.  Where’s  Mary  ? 

Mrs.  Ph.  She  will  be  right  in. 

Miss  Fos.  Not  out  in  the  street,  I hope  ! 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh  dear,  no  ; in  her  own  room.  Do  sit  down — not 
that  chair.  Have  you  got  your  breath  ? Do  let  me  give  you  a 
cup  of  tea,  Aunt  Maria.  [Pours  water  into  teapot. 

Miss  Fos.  Well,  if  I like  Mary  as  well  as  I did  when  she  was 
a child,  I shall  take  the  support  of  her  off  your  hands  for  two 
years. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Aunt  Maria,  you  are  always  so  kind. 

[Takes  out  handkerchief. 

Miss  Fos.  Now,  don’t  begin  that,  Eliza,  for  you  know  per- 
fectly well — yes,  two  lumps — (Mrs.' Philips  brings  tea) — you 
know  perfectly  well  that  it’s  not  kindness  ; and  as  for  Susan  and 
Katherine  and  the  rest  of  your  girls,  I wouldn’t  have  th’em 
’round,  even  if  I were  dying  of  neglect  on  a desert  island  in  -the 
midst  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Ocean. 

Mrs.  Ph.  But  you  put  Susan  through  college,  and  g'ave 
Katherine,  when  she  was  married,  the  loveliest  trousseau 

Miss  Fos.  The  more  fool  I.  But  don’t  waste  time  talking^  to 
me  about  Susan  and  Katherine.  I want  to  hear  about  Ma  ry. 
Is  she  really  the  sweet,  modest,  retiring  girl  you  describe  her  in 
your  letters  ? , 

Mrs.  Ph.  Aunt  Maria,  from  the  time  Mary  left  off  bibs — l — 

Miss  Fos.  Don’t  talk  to  me  about  bibs.  What  I want,  to 
know  is,  has  she  any  foolish  notions  about  men  ? 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


13 


Mrs.  Ph.  I don’t  believe  she  has  ever  looked  at  a man. 

Miss  Fos.  Truth  was  never  one  of  your  strong-  character- 
istics, Eliza,  especially  where  your  daughters  were  concerned. 

Mrs.  Ph.  (using  handkerchief ).  Oh,  Aunt  Maria  ! 

Miss  Fos.  However,  I mean  Mary  to  marry  eventually.  I 
have  a good  match  for  her  in  my  mind— a young  resident  phy- 
sician who  has  the  adjoining  villa  to  mine. 

Enter  Mary. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Mary  ! 

Miss  Fos.  So  this  is  Mary. 

[Mrs.  Philips  takes  Miss  Fosdick’s  cup . 

Mary  (coming  forward  shyly).  Aunt  Maria  ! 

Miss  Fos.  ( taking  Mary’s  two  hands).  Well,  my  dear,  I half 
believe  your  mother  has  spoken  the  truth  about  you,  after  all. 

Mary.  Oh,  Aunt  Maria  ! 

Miss  Fos.  ( kissing  Mary).  And  you  are  not  afraid  of  your 
crabbed  old  aunt  ? And  you  will  come  and  make  a bright  spot 
for  her  in  Villa  Alba  ? 

Mary.  Oh,  Aunt  Maria  ! 

[Miss  Fosdick  talks  apart  with  Mary. 

Mrs.  Ph.  That’s  right.  That’s  just  what  an  English  girl 
would  do — blush  and  keep  on  saying,  “ Oh,  Aunt  Maria  ! ” 

Miss  Fos.  (to  Mary).  And  your  hair  has  changed  color,  too. 
Why,  you  are  wearing  a flower  in  it — a rose.  (Changing  her 
tone.)  Stand  off  and  let  me  look  at  your  dress. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Youi;  own  gift,  Aunt  Maria. 

Miss  Fos.  I see — I see.  That  dress  and  a rose  in  her  hair. 
(Severely.)  That  will  do.  (To  Mrs.  Philips.")  Eliza,  you 
have  been  lying  to  me,  as  usual. 

Ey™'  [ AuntMaria! 

Miss  Fos.  Can  you  never  learn  it  is  for  your  interest  to  tell 
me  the  truth,  Eliza  ? 

Mary  ( taking  her  mother's  hand).  Oh,  Aunt  Maria,  how  can 
you  say  such  things  to 

Miss  Fos.  Tell  me,  Eliza,  who  is  the  young  man  who  is  pay- 
ing attention  to  your  daughter  ? 

Mrs.  Ph.  Attention  to  Mary  ! 

Miss  Fos.  (to  Mary).  Perhaps  you  are  more  truthful  than 
your  mother.  Who  is  the  man  who  is  in  love  with  you  ? 

[Mary  turns  away . 

/Mrs.  Ph.  Mary  knows  no  men  at  all. 

Mrs.  Fos.  I am  talking  to  Mary.  (To  Mary.)  You  do  not 
deny  there  is  some  one  ? 

'Mary  (without  raising  her  head).  Aunt  Maria,  can  I help  it 
— is  it  my  fault — it — if 


14 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Mary,  what  are  you  saying  ? Mary,  keep  quiet ! 
Go  to  your  room  ! You  don’t  know  what  you  are  doing. 

Miss  Fos.  Keep  quiet  yourseli,  Eliza.  Now,  Mary,  how  long 
has  this  creature  been  carrying  on  this  underhand 

Mary  ( raising  her  head , with  spirit).  He’s  not  a creature, 
and  he’s  not  underhand,  and  if  he  is  sad  and  lonely  and  takes 
comfort  in  looking  at  me— — 

Miss  Fos.  Looking  at  you  ! Holding  your  hands,  kissing 
you  l 

Mrs.yi>h.  } °h’  Aunt  Maria ! 

Miss  Fos.  Eliza,  keep  still.  (To  Mary.)  Can  you  deny  that 
he  kissed  you  this  very  morning  ? 

Mary  (shrinking  back).  Kissed  me  ? Aunt  Maria,  Vivian 
has  never  so  much  as  spoken  to  me  ! 

Mrs.  Ph.  Vivian  ! 

Miss  Fos.  Never  so  much  as  spoken  to  you  ! (Silence  for  a 
moment ; Miss  Fosdick  rises,  goes  to  door.)  Good-bye. 
(Comes  back  and  takes  Mary’s  hand.)  If  you  had  confessed’ 
frankly,  Mary,  I might  have  felt  differently.  There  is  something 
about  you,  child — I could — I could  have  loved  you.  Well,  go 
your  way.  (To  Mrs.  Philips.)  I will  send  you  something  for 
Mary’s  support  as  I promised. 

Mrs.  Ph.  Then  you  won’t  take  her  with  you  ? Oh,  there  is 
some  terrible  mistake  in  all  this  ! 

Miss  Fos.  Is  there  likely  to  be  a mistake,  Eliza  ? I tell  you, 
with  my  own  eyes  I saw  a man  take  that  child  in  his  arms  and 
kiss  her,  and  she  tells  me 

Mary  (a  light  breaking  in  upon  her).  Oh,  but  that  wasn’t 
Vivian  ! 

Mrs.  Ph.  Not  Vivian  ! 

Miss  Fos.  Not  Vivian  ! How  many  are  there,  then  ? You 
are  hardly  improving  your  case  ! 

Mary.  But  how  did  you  happen  to  see  it,  Aunt  Maria  ? 

Miss  Fos.  Very  simply.  Instead  of  going  to  Fotheringay 
Street,  I took  rooms  opposite  this  house.  My  windows  command 
yours.  I did  not  know  it  was  yours.  I did  not  know  this  morn- 
ing it  was  my  own  niece  I chanced  to  see  in  the  arms  of  that 
young  man. 

Mary  (laughing,  her  face  in  her  hands).  Oh,  Elinor,  Elinor  ! 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Mary,  how  can  you  laugh  ! 

Miss  Fos.  No,  laugh  away  if  you  choose  at  your  old  aunt 
and  her  high-flown  notions  of  decorum  and  modesty  in  a young 
girl.  As  I say,  I did  not  dream  it  was  you,  not  even  when  I 
came  into  this  room  ; but  suddenly,  the  dress,  the  rose  in  your 
hair 

jMary.  Oh,  wait  one  moment.  [Runs  to  bedroom  and^L\Xx 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


*5 


Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Aunt  Maria,  and  I had  kept  her  so  secluded, 
quite  different  from  Susan  and  Katherine  and  the  rest ! I didn’t 
even  know  she  had  speaking  acquaintance  with  a young  man, 
much  less Why,  you  are  crying  ! 

Miss  Fos.  (i using  handkerchief ),  Crying  ! Nonsense  ! Of 
course  it  is  distressing  to  see  as  attractive  a child  as  Mary  used 
to  be  turn  out  such  a liar  ; but  leaving  her  in  your  hands,  I might 
have  known — I might  have  known 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Aunt  Maria  ! 

Enter  Mary  from  bedroom , A knock . Mary  runs  to 
the  door  and  opens  it, 

Mary.  Oh,  Mr.  Christy  ! 

Mrs.  Ph.  It  must  be  one  of  Elinor’s  brothers. 

Mary  ( holding  door  ajar).  Aunt  Maria,  the  person  who  kissed 
me  this  morning  is  here.  Shall  he  come  in  ? 

Miss  Fos.  Let  me  out  first. 

Mary  ( leading  Elinor  in).  Oh,  Aunt  Maria  ! Oh,  mother  ! 
Don’t  you  see  ? 

Mrs.  Ph.  Elinor  Christy  ! 

Elinor  {bowing).  Don’t  I make  an  excellent  man  ? 

Miss  Fos.  What’s  all  this  ? 

Elinor.  Private  theatricals,  Miss  Fosdick. 

Miss  Fos.  ( suspiciously ),  And  what  I saw  was  merely  a re- 
hearsal ? 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Elinor — Elinor  ! 

Elinor.  Something  of  the  sort  ; and  your  being  deceived,  Miss 
Fosdick,  as  Mary  tells  me  you  were,  is  one  of  the  highest  com- 
pliments I could  have. 

Mrs.  Ph.  I knew  there  was  some  terrible  mistake. 

Miss  Fos.  {severely).  Very  neat,  very  nice.  But  it  hardly 
explains  away  Mr.  Vivian. 

Elinor.  Mr.  Vivian  ! 

Miss  Fos.  ( ironically ).  Now  if  you  will  please  to  bring  on 
Mr.  Vivian 

Mary.  Oh,  Aunt  Maria,  it’s  true  what  I told  you.  I never 
have  even  spoken  to  him.  He  has  rooms  over  there,  and — and 
he  just  sits  and  looks  at  me 

Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Mary,  Mary,  and  you  never 

Elinor.  It’s  just  the 

Miss  Fos.  And  he  also  took  in  the  little  comedy.  Perhaps  it 
was  intended  for  his  benefit. 

Elinor.  It  was  entirely  my  idea. 

Miss  Fos.  Don’t  talk  to  me  about  your  ideas.  Who  and  what 
is  Mr.  Vivian  ? 

Mary.  Oh,  that  isn’t  his  real  name 

Elinor.  It’s  just  the  purest  nonsense 


1 6 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT. 


Mrs.  Ph.  Oh,  Mary,  Mary,  and  the  passage  engaged,  and 
Susan  and  Katherine  and  the  rest 

Miss  Fos.  ( ringing  violently ).  Don’t  talk  about  Susan  and 
Katherine  and  the  rest.  I want  to  find  out  about  this. 

Mary.  Oh,  Aunt  Maria,  you  are  not  going  to  tell  any  one . 

Miss  Fos.  Do  you  think  I can’t  pump  Mrs.  Fogerty  without 
Mrs.  Fogerty  pumping  me  ? 

Elinor  {coming forward).  Miss  Fosdick,  it’s  nothing  but  the 
purest  nonsense. 

Miss  Fos.  Humph  ! {A  knock  j Miss  Fosdick  goes  to  door.) 
Jane,  I want  to  see  Mrs.  Fogerty. 

[Mary  retires  back  with  Mrs.  Philips,  who  weeps 
in  her  handkerchief. 

Miss  Fos.  {to  Elinor).  So  your  mother  lets  you  act  in  private 
theatricals  ? 

Elinor.  Yes,  Miss  Fosdick. 

Miss  Fos.  At  Villa  Alba  I have  a wall  round  my  grounds  ten 
feet  high.  If  you  were  my  niece,  and  lived  with  me,  I should 
make  it  fifteen  feet  high. 

Elinor  {curtseying).  Thank  you,  Miss  Fosdick. 

Miss  Fos.  Does  the  child  fancy  I am  paying  her  a compli- 
ment ? 

Elinor.  I did  take  that  liberty,  Miss  Fosdick. 

Miss  Fos.  Humph  ! '{A  knock.)  Come  in. 

Enter  Mrs.  Fogerty. 

Mrs.  Fog.  {blandly).  What  can  I do  for  you,  madam  ? 

Miss  Fos.  I want  to  make  inquiries  concerning  the  house 
opposite. 

Mrs.  Fog.  Oh,  certainly.  Well-meaning  people,  I’ve  heard  ; 
cellar  half  full  of  water,  to  be  sure,  and  the  drains 

Miss  Fos.  I spent  last  night  there. 

Mrs.  Fog.  Ah,  indeed?  You  slept,  I hope?  An  unfortu- 
nately noisy  house,  I’m  told.  Now,  my  rooms 

Miss  Fos.  Do  you  happen  to  know  who  my  fellow-lodgers 
are  ? Who  has  the  room  just  opposite  this  ? 

Mrs.  Fog.  The  room  just  opposite  this  ? 

Miss  Fos.  Yes. 

Mary  {going  to  Elinor  and  taking  her  hand).  Oh,  Elinor  ! 

Mrs.  Fog.  Why,  that — oh  yes,  there  he  is,  as  usual. 

Miss  Fos.  {grimly).  Yes,  I see  him. 

Mrs.  Fog.  I’ve  noticed  him  sit  there  by  the  hour  together. 

Miss  Fos.  Very  impertinent  of  him  to  stare  over  here  so. 

Mrs.  Fog.  Impertinent 1 Why,  bless  me,  madam — the  poor 
man  is  stone-blind. 

All,  Stone-blind  ! 


A BLIND  ATTACHMENT.  1 7 

Mrs.  Fog.  You’d  never  dream  it,  would  you,  with  those  eyes  ? 

Mary  {to  Elinor).  Stone-blind  ! 

Mrs.  Fog.  A retired  pork  merchant,  they  tell  me. 

Mary  {to  Elinor).  A pork  merchant ! 

Mrs.  Fog.  And  would  hardly  be  the  company  for  you, 
madam,  or 

Miss  Fos.  That  will  do,  Mrs.  Fogerty  ; that’s  all  I wanted. 

Mrs.  Fog.  My  first  floor  front  just  happens  to  be  empty — 
very  sunny — Japanese  rugs — no  trouble  to  show  you 

Miss  Fos.  {opening  door , suggestively ).  That  will  do  ; thank 
you,  Mrs.  Fogerty. 

Mrs.  Fog.  Hot  and  cold  water,  gas  and  electricity,  charming 
view  from 

[Exit  Mrs.  Fogerty  ; Miss  Fosdick  shuts  door  on  her . 

Mrs.  Ph.  Well,  Mary,  Mary  ; you  never  were  clever  like 
Susan  and  Katherine  and  the  rest,  but  I never  dreamed 

Miss  Fos.  {taking  Mary’s  hand).  Don’t  talk  about  Susan 
and  Katherine  and  the  rest,  Eliza  ; it  was  all  your  fault.  {Retir- 
ing back  with  Mrs.  Philips.)  Can  you  let  me  have  Mary  by 
fhe  fourth  ? [They  talk  up  back . 

Mary  {to  Elinor).  Poor  Vivian  ! 

Elinor  {taking  Mary’s  hand).  And  his  blind  attachment. 


CURTAIN. 


LOST— A CHAPERON 

A Comedy  in  Three  Acts  by  Courtney  Bruerton  and  W.  S.  Maulsby* 
Six  male,  nine  female  characters.  Costumes,  modern ; scenery,  an  in- 
terior and  an  exterior.  Plays  a full  evening.  A lot  of  college  girls  in 
camp  lose  their  chaperon  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  are  provided  by  a 
camp  of  college  boys  across  the  lake  with  plenty  of  excitement.  The  parts 
are  all  good,  the  situations  are  very  funny  and  the  lines  full  of  laughs. 
Recommended  for  high-school  performance.  Price , 25  cents 

THE  PRIVATE  TUTOR 

A Farce  in  Three  Acts  by  E.  J.  Whisler.  Five  male,  three  female  char- 
acters. Costumes,  modern  ; scenery,  two  simple  interiors.  Plays  two  hours. 
Tells  of  the  endeavors  of  two  college  boys  to  disguise  the  fact  that  they  have 
been  “ rusticated  ” from  the  family  of  one  of  them.  Hans  Dinklederfer, 
the  leader  cf  a German  band,  trying  to  make  good  in  the  character  of  a 
private  tutor,  is  a scream.  All  the  parts  are  good.  A capital  high-school 
play.  Price , 25  cents 

THE  REBELLION  OF  MRS.  BARCLAY 

A Comedy  of  Domestic  Life  in  Two  Acts  by  May  E.  Countryman. 
Three  male,  six  female  characters.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  easy 
interiors.  Plays  one  hour  and  three-quarters.  A clever  and  amusing 
comedy  with  all  the  parts  evenly  good.  There  are  many  Mr.  Barclays  all 
over  this  country,  and  Mrs.  Barclay’s  method  of  curing  her  particular  one 
will  be  sympathetically  received.  Good  Irish  comedy  parts,  male  and  fe- 
male. Strongly  recommended.  Price , 25  cents 

THE  TRAMPS’  CONVENTION 

An  Entertainment  in  One  Scene  for  Male  Characters  Only  by  Jessie  A. 
Kelley.  Seventeen  male  characters.  Costumes,  typical  tramp  dress ; 
scenery,  unimportant.  Plays  an  hour  and  a half.  An  entertainment  in 
the  vaudeville  class,  with  possibilities  of  unlimited  fun.  Music  can  be  in- 
troduced, if  desired,  though  this  is  not  necessary.  The  opening  is  very 
funny  and  original  and  the  finish — The  Ananias  Club — can  be  worked  up 
to  any  extent.  Strongly  recommended.  Price , 25  cents 

THE  DAY  THAT  LINCOLN  DIED 

A Play  in  One  Act  by  Prescott  Warren  and  Will  Hutchins.  Five  male, 
two  female  characters.  Costumes,  modern  ; scene,  an  easy  exterior.  Plays 
thirty  minutes.  A very  effective  play  suited  for  a Lincoln  Day  entertain- 
ment. ^ It  offers  plenty  of  comedy,  and  is  a piece  that  we  can  heartily 
recommend.  Professional  stage-rights  reserved.  Price , 25  cents 

PA’S  NEW  HOUSEKEEPER 

A Farce  in  One  Act  by  Charles  S.  Bird.  Three  male,  two  female  char- 
acters. Modern  costumes  ; scenery,  a simple  interior  or  none  at  all.  Plays 
forty  minutes.  Jack  Brown,  visiting  his  chum,  is  tempted  by  his  success 
in  college  theatricals  to  make  up  in  the  character  of  the  new  housekeeper, 
an  attractive  widow,  who  is  expected  but  does  not  arrive.  Pie  takes  in 
everybody  and  mixes  things  up  generally.  All  the  parts  are  first  rate  and 
the  piece  full  of  laughs.  Strongly  recommended.  Price , ij  cents 


PICKING  A WINNER 

A Farce  in  Three  Acts 

By  Mac  Pherson  Janney 

Nine  males,  five  females.  Costumes,  modern ; scenery,  two  interiors. 
Plays  two  hours.  Three  foreign  noblemen  in  pursuit  of  the  millions  of  an 
American  heiress  disguise  themselves  as  a cook,  a chauffeur,  and  a butler, 
and  enter  her  employ.  The  police  force. of  McNabb,  111.,  embodied  in  a 
rustic  disciple  of  Sherlock  Holmes,  misconceives  them  and  causes  a lot  of 
fun  for  everybody  but  them.  Very  funny  and  original  and  strongly 
recommended.  Professional  rights  reserved.  Price , 25  cents 

CHARACTERS 

Sir  Francis  MacDonald,  who  wants  Blanche . 

Count  Alexandre,  who  wants  Blanche' s money. 

The  Earl  of  Norton,  also  desirous  of  Blanche's  coin . 

The  Grand  Duke  Ruffievitch,  equally  keen  after  Blanche  $ 
wealth. 

Col.  Arthur  Hopkins,  the  police  force  of  McNabb,  Illinois. 

Fred  1 

Mervyn  > three  gilded  youths. 

Frank  ] 

Hawkins,  Lady  Janet' s butler. 

Blanche  Kane,  an  American  heiress. 

Lady  Janet  MacDonald,  Sir  Francis  aunt. 

Isabelle  Foster  I 

Olga  Foster  > three  American  heiresses. 

Stella  Foster  J 

THE  FIRST  NATIONAL  BOOT 

A Farce  in  Two  Acts 
By  M.  G. 

Seven  males,  two  females.  Costumes,  modern  ; scenery,  a single  in- 
terior. Plays  one  hour.  Intended  to  be  played  by  male  actors  only. 
Isry  Ebbetts’s  distrust  of  banks  leads  him  to  keep  his  money  in  a rubber 
boot.  The  fact  that  he  never  banks  his  receipts  and  his  known  possession 
of  the  “ Ebbetts  fortune  ” make  him  an  object  of  interest  to  Nine-Fingered 
Pete  and  others,  including  two  suffragettes  with  prohibition  ideas.  His 
troubles  are  many,  but  he  comes  out  all  right.  Very  funny.  Can  be 
recommended.  Price , 15  cents 

CHARACTERS 

“Isry”  Ebbetts,  owner  of  Hamden' s Center  Store. 

Eddy  Rias,  his  clerk. 

Andrew  Strong,  a mysterious  stranger  from  Portland. 
Francesca  Willets  ) members  of  HamderC s 

Edwin  a Bemis  j Reform  League. 

Archenbachus  Herodotus  Snooze,  a member  of  Pinkums  De* 

tective  Agency. 

Foggerty  Young,  town  constable. 

Thomas  Rustan,  a practical  joker. 

Squire  Peckham,  chairman  of  the  town  council * 

Farmers. 


Plays  and  Novelties  That  Have  Been 

“ Winners 

Males 

Females  Time 

Price 

Royal 

The  Americana 

11 

ilA  hrs. 

25c 

Free 

Anita's  Trial 

II 

2 “ 

2CC 

a 

Art  Clubs  are  Trumps 

12 

X “ 

25c 

it 

Behind  the  Scenes 

12 

iX'  “ 

25C 

it 

The  Camp  Fire  Girls 

15 

2 “ 

25c 

ii 

A Case  for  Sherlock  Holmes 

IO 

l/z  « 

25C 

ii 

The  Farmerette 

7 

2 “ 

25c 

a 

Getting  the  Range 

8 

X “ 

25c 

a 

Her  First  Assignment 

10 

1 

*5C 

it 

Hitty’s  Service  Flag 

11 

*X  “ 

25c 

it 

Joint  Owners  in  Spain 

4 

X “ 

25  c 

$5.00 

A King’s  Daughter 

11 

2 “ 

25  c 

Free 

; The  Knitting  Club  Meets 

9 

X “ 

25c 

ii 

A Lady  to  Call 

3 

X “ 

15c 

it 

Leave  it  to  Polly 

11 

I X “ 

25c 

ii 

The  Minute  Man 

*3 

iy2  « 

25c 

Ii 

Miss  Fearless  & Co. 

10 

2 « 

25c 

ii 

,!  A Modern  Cinderella 

16 

*X  “ 

25c 

II 

■ Moth= Balls 

3 

X “ 

25c 

it 

Rebecca’s  Triumph 

16 

2 « 

25c 

ii 

, The  Thirteenth  Star 

9 

ll/2  “ 

2CC 

it 

| Twelve  Old  Maids 

15 

I “ 

25C 

it 

■ An  Awkward  Squad 

8 

X “ 

r5c 

it 

The  B!ow=Up  of  Algernon  Blow 

8 

X “ 

!5C 

ii 

The  Boy  Scouts 

20 

2 “ 

2CC 

ii 

A Close  Shave 

6 

X “ 

*5° 

tt 

The  First  National  Boot 

7 

2 

I “ 

I5C 

it 

j A Half=  Back’s  Interference 

IO 

X “ 

X5C 

a 

His  Father’s  Son 

14 

iX  “ 

25c 

tt 

i The  Man  With  the  Nose 

8 

X “ 

15c 

a 

1 On  the  Quiet 

12 

*X  “ 

25c 

tt 

■ The  People’s  Money 

11 

1 X “ 

25c 

it 

l A Regular  Rah ! Rah  ! Boy 

14 

iX  “ 

25c 

tt 

| A Regular  Scream 

II 

IX  “ 

25c 

a 

1 Schmerecase  in  School 

9 

I “ 

15c 

a 

The  Scoutmaster 

IO 

2 “ 

25c 

it 

The  Tramps’  Convention 

17 

I X “ 

25c 

u 

The  Turn  in  the  Road 

9 

iX  “ 

15c 

a 

Wanted — A Pitcher 

ii 

X “ 

J5C 

a 

What  They  Did  for  Jenkins 

H 

2 “ 

25c 

tt 

Aunt  Jerusha’s  Quilting  Party 

4 

12 

1 X •“ 

25c 

tt 

! The  District  School  at  Blueberry 

| Corners 

12 

17 

l “ 

25c 

a 

The  Emigrants’  Party 

24 

10 

I “ 

25c 

it 

‘ Miss  Prim’s  Kindergarten 

IO 

1 1 

iX  “ 

25c 

it 

A Pageant  of  History  Any  number 

2 “ 

25c 

ii 

The  Revel  of  the  Year 

ii 

a 

X “ 

15c 

it 

! Scenes  in  the  Union  Depot 

ii 

u 

I “ 

25c 

it 

Taking  the  Census  in  Bingville 

14 

8 

1 X “ 

25c 

it 

The  Village  Post=Office 

22 

20 

2 “ 

25c 

a 

! Women  in  War 

1 1 

X “ 

15c 

11 

BAKER,  5 Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Mass* 

f w v wv  wv  vwwww 


VVVVVV  WVWW  VWVV'VVVWV  wvwwwww 


Plays  for  Colleges  and  High  Schools 


Males 

Females 

Time 

Price 

Royalty 

The  Air  Spy 

12 

4 

lA 

hrs. 

25C 

Special 

Bachelor  Hall 

8 

4 

2 

u 

25c 

$5.00 

The  College  Chap 

1 1 

. 7 

2lA 

tt 

25C 

Free 

The  CoSoael’s  Maid 

6 

3 

2 

tt 

25C 

tt 

Daddy 

4 

4 

a 

25C 

« 

The  Deacon’s  Second  Wife 

6 

6 

2J£ 

u 

25C 

it 

The  District  Attorney 

IO 

6 

2 

a 

25C 

“ 

The  Dutch  Detective 

5 

5 

2 

a 

25C 

“ 

An  Easy  Mark 

5 

2 

15C 

“ 

The  Elopement  of  Ellen 

4 

3 

2 

a 

25c 

tt 

Engaged  by  Wednesday 

5 

11 

llA 

a 

25  c 

tt 

The  Farmerette 

7 

2 

tt 

25c 

tt 

For  One  Night  Only 

5 

4 

2 

tt 

15c 

tt 

Hamilton 

ii 

5 

2 

a 

50c 

Special 

Higbee  of  Harvard 

5 

4 

2 

tt 

15c 

Free f 

Hitty’s  Service  Flag 

11 

a 

25c 

tt 

The  Hoodoo 

6 

12 

2 

it 

25c 

tt  J 

The  Hurdy  Gurdy  Girl 

9 

9 

2 

tt 

25c 

a 

Katy  Did 

4 

8 

tt 

25  c 

a 

Let’s  Get  Married 

3 

5 

2 

tt 

5oc 

Special 

London  Assurance 

IO 

3 

2 

tt 

I5C 

Free 

Lost  a Chaperon 

6 

9 

2 

tt 

25c 

*« 

The  Man  from  Braodoo 

3 

4 

a 

I5C 

it 

The  Man  Who  Went 

7 

3 

a 

25c 

Special 

The  Man  Without  a Coun  ty 

46 

5 

1^ 

a 

25c 

Free 

Master  Pierre  Patelin 

4 

1 

llA 

it 

50c 

<<  i 

Me  and  Otis 

5 

4 

2 

a 

15c 

“ 

The  Minute  Man 

I3 

*A 

a 

25c' 

u 

Mose 

11 

10 

lVz 

a 

iSc 

n 

Mr.  Bob 

3 

4 

'A 

a 

W 

“ 

Mrs.  Briggs  of  the  Poultry  Yard 

4 

7 

2 

tt 

25c 

tt 

Nathan  Hale 

*5 

4 

2^ 

a 

5oc 

$10.00 

Nephew  or  Uncle 

8 

3 

2 

a 

25c 

Free 

Professor  Pepp 

8 

8 

a 

25c 

tt 

A Regiment  of  Two 

6 

4 

2 

a 

25c 

tt 

The  Revenge  of  Shari- Hot-  Su 

3 

4 

I# 

a 

15c 

tt 

The  Rivals 

9 

5 

2^ 

it 

15c 

tt 

The  Romancers 

5 

1 

2 

it 

25c 

tt 

The  Rose  and  the  Ring 

16 

5 

I# 

a 

25c 

it 

Sally  Lunn 

3 

4 

■1# 

n 

25c 

ft 

The  School  for  Scandal 

12 

4 

2/4 

n 

l5c 

tt 

She  Stoops  to  Conquer 

15 

4 

2^ 

a 

l5* 

ft 

Step  Lively 

4 

10 

2 

tt 

25c 

tt 

The  Submarine  Shell 

7 

4 

2 

it 

25c 

Special 

The  Thirteenth  Star 

9 

tt 

25  c 

Free 

The  Time  of  His  Life 

6 

3 

2^ 

a 

25c 

a 

Tommy’s  Wife 

3 

5 

\A 

tt 

25c 

t* 

The  Twig  of  Thorn 

6 

7 

'A. 

a 

60c 

tt 

For  “ special  ” royalties,  see 

catalogue  descriptions  for 

4 

4 
4 
4 

4 

4 

4 
4 
4 
4 
4 
4 
4 

4 

J 

4 
4 
4 
4 
4 
4 

4 
4 
4 
4 

4 
4 

| 

I 

4 
4 
4 
4 

4 . . 

^ detailed  information. 

^ BAKER,  5 Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Mass* 

yry  'ay*  ]y yyyyy  y r^pty1 


